


Fever Dream

by dayinthelife



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Dreams, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-16
Updated: 2013-04-16
Packaged: 2017-12-08 15:54:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/763203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dayinthelife/pseuds/dayinthelife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the asoiafkinkmeme. Prompt: attraction/pining.</p><p>He wakes suddenly and sits bolt upright, his skin fever hot, and with a quaking hand pushes back a few stray locks of dark hair from his forehead. His heart is pounding and his body is covered in a sheen of sweat. The green dreams aren’t usually like this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fever Dream

**Author's Note:**

> (Characters aged up for obvious reasons)

He wakes suddenly and sits bolt upright, his skin fever hot, and with a quaking hand pushes back a few stray locks of dark hair from his forehead. His heart is pounding and his body is covered in a sheen of sweat. The green dreams aren’t usually like this. They’re never so direct, never so vivid.

“Did you dream of him again?” Meera asks from across the room, her green eyes glinting in the moonlight that slips in past the cracks in the clay roof above their heads. As his vision adjusts to the darkness he can see that she is propped up on one elbow, staring at him intently. His green dreams have always made her slightly uneasy, he knows, and he has never had a recurring dream like this before.

Jojen would like to lie to her. He doesn’t like to see his sister worry, though he doesn’t understand why she does; there is no changing it, once he’s seen it in a dream, no point in denying what will happen. Acceptance had been one of the first things his father had taught him, after the fever had nearly killed him and they’d discovered that he had the sight. Still, it makes him sad to see a frown marring Meera’s usually cheerful features.

“Yes.” 

Jojen has never been one to lie.

“What this time?” she asks, sitting up. He can tell by the tone of her voice that she’s already tense, fully awake now and trying to sound as if there aren’t already several nightmares chasing themselves around in her mind, each more awful than the last.

He feels his cheeks flush and he looks down at his hands, suddenly ashamed. He sees him again in his mind - a lean boy, taller than himself, with dark blue eyes, auburn curls, and a large grey wolf beside him. Brandon Stark. He remembers the look that was in the wolf’s golden eyes when he stroked the beast’s fur and shivers.

“Nothing,” Jojen says, looking to his sister and back down at his lap. “Just the same dream.”

“In the godswood?”

“Yes.”

He doesn’t tell her how he had threaded his fingers through Summer’s fur, then Brandon’s hair after he beckoned him come beneath the weirwood. He leaves out the heat of Bran’s breath against the shell of his ear (whispering _come, I need you, I want you, come to me_ ), the gentle firmness of his hands on the small of his back as he pressed him against the heart tree, heedless of the bloody sap weeping from the tree’s wooden grimace. She needn’t know how badly he had wanted it, wanted him, how he had shamelessly pulled Bran against him, hands gripping his waist, pulling him closer, closer; how he could never be close enough.

Heat pools in Jojen’s stomach as he remembers the taste of Bran’s tongue in his mouth, the moans he swallowed from the other boy’s throat. He can almost still feel the press of body against body, desperate, familiar, _hungry_ in a way that Jojen has never felt in waking life. A keen sense of longing gnaws at him somewhere deep inside and he sighs.

“Jojen?”

He swallows and hopes his voice will be even when he speaks.

“He needs us. We should leave on the morrow.”

Meera nods, not pressing him further, and lays back down. She won’t sleep any more tonight, and she’ll worry until dawn. It makes him feel guilty, but he can’t help the small smile that turns his lips upward. After what feels like forever, he will finally – truly – meet his prince.

**Author's Note:**

> One day I'll write something longer than a drabble for these two...Feedback is greatly appreciated! :)


End file.
